


All Kinds of Poison

by 3amepiphany



Series: 25 Days of WOYmas [11]
Category: Wander Over Yonder
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 08:16:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9063820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3amepiphany/pseuds/3amepiphany
Summary: May all your troubles soon be gone.





	

**Author's Note:**

> http://omegalovaniac.tumblr.com/post/154917993339/day-22-mistletoe-i-had-this-song-in-mind-for-this

“Fire hazard.”

Martin looked up from the end of the bar, where he was polishing glasses.

“Fire hazard, fire hazard, that doesn’t look safe at all.”

Abe looked over his shoulder and steadied his balance a bit. Stonewall held the ladder as best he could, but he too tried to give a short glance. It was the Commander. They both turned to Martin and gave him a nervous stare.

“He’s on the top step, you don’t stand on the top step.” Peepers waited with his hands folded behind his back as Abe came down a step. “Please keep that ladder steady,” he said before sitting at the bar in a fatigued manner. Stonewall fixed his attention back on the ladder. Quickly, Martin threw together Peepers’ usual order, stirring it gently and adding one of their bourbon-soaked cherries in it on a pick as he placed it in front of him. “All of this is a fire hazard.”

“Your usual is a fire hazard.”

“Your wit is a fire hazard.”

“Thank you, sir.” Martin waved a hand at Abe and Stoney as Peepers took a sip, and they went back to trimming the fuzzy, tree-like garland strung up along the walls. They were using a smaller garland of beads, and there were boxes of old ornaments sitting on the floor near the back booth. On that booth’s table was a mess of paper clippings. The tree in the corner had a few little paper snowflakes hanging on it, definitely unfinished. “Just getting the place ready for Today. Festive is good. Drives sales. Brings in a lot of couples.”

Peepers looked up at him, and blinked slowly, and it took everything in him not to buckle under that and apologize.   
“These things you pick up on after a while.”

There were a few anxious moments of silence before the Commander bit. “It doesn’t feel like Today,” he said, taking the garnish and gently swishing it around, obviously torn on eating it just yet or saving it for the finish.

“I hear that. There’s letters from home saying it hasn’t even snowed yet. All the better to put up the glitz, don’t you think?”

“Are those battery-operated candles, Martin?” Peepers pointed up at the flickering lights in the chandeliers - usually they held soft, warm, old-fashioned type bulbs, but these were quaint little candles with ribbon and other seasonal dressings. 

“Yes, sir. Don’t want to incur a fire hazard.”

There wasn’t an answer to that, just the shuffling of Abe coming down the ladder so they could move it over a bit. As Martin turned to go back to finish the glasses so he could move on to prepping the garnish stock, Peepers said, “I messed up.”

“Naw,” he replied.

“I did. She took off with Wander but there wasn’t any of that… ‘oh, they’ll come and find us’ business, or like, the whole ‘we’ll be back for days before they realize we’ve been here for a while now’ thing they used to do. This was a very definitive, ‘Peepers messed up and now he’s going to have a hard time trying to figure out what to do with that super nice present he’d gotten Sylvia for Today’ kind of mess.” He took another sip, studying the paper snowflakes. “How do you make those?” he asked with a nod.

So Martin fetched them some pieces of paper and the scissors, and he taught the Commander how to make the little crafts as he idly and openly talked about the matter at hand.

And when Peepers was ready for another drink, Martin set two down on the counter; one with a cherry, and one with orange zest. And then he backed away, taking the smaller wastebin with him to clean up the mess on the far booth, his steps loud and pretty much the opposite of slick and unnoticeable. He eyed Martin’s retreating back and then gave a small sigh.

“So I know we didn’t finish our earlier discussion,” Sylvia said, sitting down next to him.

“Was it a discussion?” He asked. “I wasn’t being very civil. There’s usually civility in discussions.”

“Neither was I.”

“You know,” he said, “every other fight we’ve had has been something I can easily shrug off with anticipation of the next one, but this one. It’s not-- it’s not enjoyable.” There was the scraping of Abe and Stoney with the ladder, but then things went quiet again, save for the holiday music that was playing softly over the little speakers behind the bar.

“No, it isn’t,” she told him. “I think that’s probably one of the biggest changes I’ve seen out of this and I want… I mean, it’s terrible. I love a good knock-down, drag-out fight but anymore it’s not something I want to do with you. It feels wrong. And I’m not just saying that because of the holiday.” She took a big sip of her drink. “Wander and I went down to the planet surface, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that. I knew we both needed a little bit of cool-off time. We found some mistletoe, and I realized that I didn’t want Today to come and go with an argument. So. I came back.”

Above the shelves of bottles and glasses behind the bar, the colorful lights lit up, twinkling. “I spent most of the day worried that you wouldn’t.”

“I was worried that I wouldn’t, too. I guess following that sign was the right choice. Here. Wander popped a ribbon on it.” Her bridle jingled a bit as she leaned over with the sprig of the little plant.

He picked it up and looked at the little white berries, and felt the soft velvety leaves. “This stuff is poisonous, you know.”

“I’m less about eating dangerous plants and more about drinking the liquor we can distill from them, honestly. I figured Martin might want a bit of it for the bar.” She leaned over and gave him a kiss.

Peepers blinked a few times, pretty sure he was about to cry, but he held it down solidly. “I’m sorry.”

She whispered, “I’m sorry, too.”

They sat there quietly, watching the lights, and after a little bit, he opened the last paper snowflake he had been working on and handed it to her. “It’s Today,” he said. Sylvia looked up at the clock on the far end of the room by the door. It sure was.

Martin came back over and asked if they’d like another round. He really knew how to read cues. He picked up the mistletoe and said, “Ah, this is great. It looks fresh, too.”

“That’s for the Pupil,” Sylvia said, craning her neck forward and giving him a small, friendly peck. “Put it up in the doorway or something, somewhere cheesy.”

“I’ll try to find a good place. This stuff is pretty flammable.”

“Poisonous too,” Peepers said.


End file.
